Age of Chaos
by DragonVerse
Summary: Age of Chaos is a collection of one shots regarding Warden Amell before, after, and/or during Dragon Age. I do not own Dragon Age, BioWare does, no copyright attended. Please R&R.


**This is the story about how Warden Amell arrived at the Circle. I do not own Dragon Age, BioWare does, no copyrights attended. Please R&R. I hope you enjoy.**

**The Calling**

15 Years Ago

I stood very still, with the pond ripples lapping at my bare legs. The wolf stared back at me, water dripping from its snout. Caught with his tongue half out, he watched, his thirst forgotten and hungry hardened his ice blue eyes. He moved, beginning to circle me. The wolf's white coat was almost too bright in the sun light. I wanted to shield my eyes, but I didn't dare move. Not yet.

I bent my knees, slowing inching to one side, away from the wolf, circling him as well. When he turned toward me, hunching into attack position, I turned and ran.

I could hear the water slapping as the wolf charged after me, but I was closer to the bank, and he was still far behind. I pressed my feet into the ground, propelling myself across the ground. I didn't dare look back. Keeping my focus on my feet so I did not faulted.

My heart bounded in my ears, deafening the sound of the wood. I was almost to Oakwood Village, almost to safety. If I could just make it into the village the wolf would be too scared to fallow for fear of the hunters.

But I wasn't fast enough.

The wolf plowed into me, knocking me forward. I hit the autumn dirt hard, crushing my chest and kicking the wind out of me. The wolf locked it's jaw around my ankle and tugged, dragging me back into the wood.

I screamed for help, clawing at the frozen ground and kicking the wolf with what little strength I could muster. It did no good.

Fear coursed through me, heating every inch of me. Not knowing how or why I channeled the heat into my hands. It was instinct, my body knowing what to do while my mind panicked. I rolled onto my back and thrust my hands at the wolf. Gasping at the heat gathered in my palms creating a large ball of fire. I released the energy and it soared at the wolf slamming into his face and erupting in to liquid fire.

The wolf released my ankle, but I couldn't move. I stared in awe-struck horror as the wolf struggled to up out the fire that consumed him. He ran in every direction, shaking and rearing up. He howled and moaned, but the fire was relentless. Finally the wolf fell dead, the fire continued to burn until there was nothing but ash and bone left.

It was still several more moments before I could move again. I sat up straighter, tearing my eyes away from the remains of the wolf, and stared at my hands. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, scorch marks or even sparks, but there was nothing. They were normal, just like they were every other day. I opened and closed my fingers, trying to find the heat again, but it was gone.

I pushed myself to my and dusted of my skirt. I didn't know what the heat was, but Mama would know. Mama new everything, and what she didn't, Papa did.

I began back toward Oakwood, dragging my injured leg behind me.

"What in Andraste's name did you do?" Mama demanded as I entered our little cottage on the outskirts of the village. I grabbed my under the arms and hoisted me onto the dining table to examine my bleeding leg.

"I was attacked by a wolf," I explained. I held up the hem of my skirt so Mama could get a clear view. I had always thought Mama was beautiful, and Papa always said we looked alike. Though I couldn't see past our matching blond hair and brown eyes, I still hoped to be as beautiful and know everything like she did.

"Maker's breath, Teresa Amell," Mama blew out a long breath, and tucked her arms over her chest, "Did Tomas put you up to sneaking into the forest again? You know you are not allowed to go in there without your father!" Not giving me a chance to answer Mama went to get a bucket of clean water and clean bandages to mend my leg. "You're very lucky you weren't seriously injured," Mama paused in her work, her eyes filling with confusion. She moved her dark brown eyes to me, "Tessa, why weren't you seriously injured?"

"I fired the wolf," I said, pride making my chest rise. I beamed at her, hoping she was as proud as I was.

"You _fired_ the wolf?" Mama asked, raising one of her brows, "Do you mean you set the wolf on _fire_?"

I nodded, and smiled, suddenly very excited to tell her my story. "The wolf attacked me, Mama, and I was scared! But I shot fire at him and he burnt up!"

Mama dropped the bucket of water and it clattered on the ground, the water splashing across the floor and soaking into the wood. Mama stood up straight so she towered over me, her eyes were wide and horror struck and her mouth hung open. "You shot fire at the wolf? Did it come out of her hands?"

I nodded, not excited any more. "What's wrong, Mama?"

Mama sat back down. She took my hands in hers and stared hard at me. "Listen to me, Tessa, you cannot tell anyone about this, do you understand?"

"What about Papa?" I asked.

I was so confused. I didn't understand what was so wrong about what I did. I thought it was amazing. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to learn to control it. If I did I could help Papa hung.

"I will tell your father," Mama said, standing up again, "Until then you are to stay inside and don't use any magic."

Magic? I had magic like the mages? Didn't Mother Kathrin always say they were supposed to be scary and evil? I didn't want to be evil!

"Mama, I don't want magic!" I said. I flung myself off the table and ran to her. I clutched her skirt in my hands and buried my face against her leg, "Take it way, Mama!"

Mama pushed me far enough away that she could slide her hands and my arms and pulled me up to hug me against her. I stuck my face in her hair and breathed in the familiar cent of burnt wood and daisies. I wrapped my arms around her neck and held her as tight as I could.

"I don't want to be evil, Mama," I cried.

"Oh, baby, you're not evil," Mama rubbed my back, her voice thick with tears I knew she wouldn't shed in front of me. She was holding me so tight I almost couldn't breathe. "You're just… very special. You have a great gift…" She paused, taking a ragged breath, "It will be okay, you will see."

I closed my eyes, trusting in Mama, knowing she would take care of me always.

When I opened my eyes I was tucked warmly in my bed, a candle flickering on my bed side table. I sat up, my blanket falling way from me and stretched. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep.

I looked around my room but Mama was there. I listened, able to hear Mama and Papa talking in the main room. I slipped out of my bed, and gently crept across the floor to my door. I dropped to the ground peaked through the crack under my door. All I could see was my parent's feet, but I could hear the better.

Mama was saying, "How can we let the Templar's away?"

"She's a mage, Julia," Papa said, "She needs to learn how to control her powers."

"By sending her to that- that… prison!" Mama's voice rose. There was a pause and when she spoke again her voice had dropped back to a whisper, "How can you think of sending her there, Aiden?"

"It's not a prison, honey," Papa said, his voice was softer then I had ever heard it. Did he sound unsure? Papa never sounded unsure, he was Papa. "It's a safe place, a place where she will be free to be herself and not have to hide. You can't ask her to hide what she is."

"I won't be forever," Mama pleaded, "Just until she learns to control it. She's smart, Joshua, it won't take her long. We can protect her!"

Through the crack under my door I could see Papa walk toward Mama and stop right in front of her. "She deserves freedom," Papa said.

"How will she be free if they lock her up in that place?" Mama said, her voice thick with tears again, "We will never see her again," I heard Mama's soft sobbing, her voice tight, "I want to see her grow up and see the amazing woman she's gunna become. I want to meet the man she falls in love with, I want to watch her get married. I want grandchildren. She deserves these things. _They_ will keep them from her."

Papa spoke, his voice thick and hard when he said, "I know, but we cannot keep her. She'll never be safe outside the tower. She'll always have to hid, always have to run. To save her, we have to let her go."

Papa's feet quickly moved away from Mama as if she had pushed him. She started yelling at Papa, "You can't take my baby away from me! Tessa is _five years old_! She needs her mother! She needs me!"

I jumped to my feet and threw open the door. I ran right past Papa into Mama's arms. She lifted me up and held me tightly again. I clung to her, ignoring the cold look she was giving Papa. It was a look that said 'See?'

"It's okay, baby," Mama said as she carried me back toward my room, "I'll never let anyone take you away."

I peaked at Papa from the corner of my eyes. He stared at me, his blue eyes so sad and filled with tears making them look just like the pond in the wood. His lips moved, but no sound came out and I didn't understand what he had mouthed. He moved to the front door and slipped out just as Mama closed my bedroom door.

"Get out of my house!"

I shot up in bed, my eyes still heavy with sleep and tears. I stared at my bedroom door just as glass shattered outside it.

"Don't you touch my daughter," Mama yelled, "Maker help me if you do you will regret it!"

My bedroom door flew open, banging against the wall with enough force that the walls shook. A man stood in the door frame, dressed in heavy metal arm, with the Chantry's symbol embroidered into the chest. The man's face was covered by a helmet with narrow slits to see threw. I recognized the uniform instantly. I had seen them many times during my trips to the Chantry.

The man was a templar.

I could still hear Mama yelling in the main room, but I could no longer understand what she was saying. Her voice was now too high and distorted with hysterical sobs. I tried to look around the templar to see her, but his profile filled the doorway almost completely, blocking everything.

The templar walked toward more. He reached for me, and I scrambled across the bed, but he was too fast. He grabbed hold of my injured ankle and tugged. I cried out and he instantly released me, but I was close enough to him now, to close. He lifted me into his arms, holding me against his side and carried me from the room.

I glanced around the room to find two other templar's in the room, standing close to the door. Mama was standing in the corner, held in place by Papa. She was still screaming, struggling to get free. Every now and then she would call out my name. It was the only thing I understood.

The templar carried me toward the door. His arm was locked tightly around my back, his other hand on my leg, as if he feared I would try to run… or get take away from him?

"Wait, please!" Mama said just as one of the other templar's opened the front door. Cold air blasted my face as the templar holding me turned back to look at her, "Please, please, let me say goodbye! Please."

I blinked. Say good-bye? Was I leaving? I didn't want to leave! I struggled against the templar, but he was to strong and I was too small. I pressed against the hard metal of the templar's uniform, but it didn't do any good.

The templar looked at his companions, one shook his head and the other nodded. The templar turned back to my Mama and slowly put me on the ground. The second my bare feet touched the floor I sprung away from him. Papa released Mama and we ran to each other. Mama dropped to her knees had I collapsed into her arms.

"Don't send me away, Mama!" I pleaded, clutching at her with all the strength I had. "I'm sorry! I won't use my magic ever again, I promise!"

"It's not your fault, baby," Mama said, I felt as she whipped tears from her face. She pulled away from me to look me in the eyes, "I'm the one who's sorry. These men…" Mama paused to stare at the men standing behind me, "They are going to take you some place where you can learn to use you magic and you'll be safe."

"I'll be safe here," I said, "Papa can protect us!"

Mom tried to cover a sob with her hand. It was a moment before she could speak again, "Papa can't protect you from this. I love you, Tessa. You need to go, to get strong. I want you to become the best mage this world has ever seen."

"When can I come home?" I asked. Tears streamed down my face and blurred my eyes, making it hard for me to see her.

I didn't want to be a mage and I didn't want to be strong. I wanted to stay with Mama. Why didn't they understand this? I thought Mama wanted to keep me? Why would she let them take me?

Tears streamed down Mama's face, her whole body shook with the sobs she was trying to hide. When she spook, her voice was almost too tight for me to understand, "Never, baby, you will never be able to return home."

"No, Mama," I cried, holding her against me again, "Don't let me go! Don't let them take me!"

This time Mama couldn't stop the sobs. The sound of her crying was painfully loud in my ear, but I didn't care. All I wanted was for those tempars to disappear, to go back into before I found my magic, to stop myself from going into the woods. I wanted to the world to pause so I could spend the rest of eternity in Mama's arms.

I screamed when the templar started to pull me away from Mama. "Mama!" I yelled as the templar lifted me back into his arms. Mama tried to chase after us, but Papa took hold of her wrist, holding her in place. "Mama!"

"Tessa!" Mama yelled, struggling against Papa, "Let me go! Tessa!"

"Mama," I screamed. Fighting against the templar with everything I had. I wanted the heat in my palms to come back, so I could burn the templars up, so I could burn everything up, but it wouldn't come. "Mama!"

The templar carried me out of the house. He walked straight, never looking back, immune to my screams and kicks and punches. The templar handed me off to one of the other templars while he swung onto a black stallion. I was placed in front of him, and he locked his arm around my waist, holding me tightly so I wouldn't fall.

I stopped struggling, too tired to fight anymore. I settled for sobbing as loud as I could, trying to guilt the man into letting me go home. I could still hear Mama crying and calling my name long after we had rode far from Oakwood.

"You'll be fine," Templar Warrick said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

Even though he had been the one to steal me away from Mama, he was the only one of the three templars that accompanied me that I liked. While the others treated me like nothing or ignored me. Warrick had comforted me when I had nightmares about Mama, and told me stories about all the villages we passed. He even bought me cookies.

I didn't forgive him, I wasn't sure I ever could, but he was all I had right now.

"I don't think so," I mumbled staring at the man who had been introduced to me as First Enchanter Irving. He seemed nice enough, but it was not a comfort.

I shifted uncomfortably. I had only been in the tower a few minutes and already it felt like it would never be my home.

Just moments ago I had stood at the edge of Lake Calenhad, staring up at the tower. It was so tall, stretching up into the sky, its tip stabbing the heavens. It had a darkness cast over it, making it look evil and unwelcoming. I hated the very look of it. I hated it. I hated everything about it: the feel of it, the look of it. I hated it so much.

"We are ready for you, Teresa," Irving said, motioning for me to go to him.

Warrick squeezed my hand one more time before giving me a little push forward. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, raised my chin, and marched forward. I hardened my eyes as I stared at Irving, hiding all my fears behind a glare.

To my surprise Irving smiled. "Ah," he said, in a warm voice, "You have far too much wisdom in your face for such a young child. So much potential," He beamed at me with the pride I wanted me mother to look at me with. "You will go far, I bet."

I didn't reply.

Irving put his hand on my shoulder, "I know this is hard for you, child, but give this place a chance. You might find something here that you like."

"I want my Mama," I said.

Irving sighed and took my arm, "This will only hurt a moment, Teresa."

Irving took a dagger of his desk and dug it into the skin of my palm. It stung and I gasped, trying to pull my hand away. The first enchanter had a strong grip, for such a frail looking man, and held my arm in place. He waited until a good amount of blood had pooled in my hand before turning it over and allowing it to drip from my hand into a small glass vile.

"What is that?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"It is your phylactery," Irving explained. He waved his hand over it and I felt as the magic sealed it. "This is so the templars can track you if you ran from the tower."

I didn't want to know that.

Irving waved his hand over my hand and the cut vanished. I gasped, poking at my hand with my finger and felt no pain. Irving took a cloth of his desk and made to wipe my hand, but I snatched it from him and scrubbed the blood from my palm. I examined it closer, looking for a sign that I had been cut, but there wasn't even a scar.

"Will you teach me that?" I asked, moving me eyes to Irving.

The first enchanter smiled. He had a kind face, of what I could see under his white beard, and his smile was inviting. Irving eyes were kind and even twinkled as he gazed at me. "You will learn much for the circle, Teresa, but now you must rest. Come, I will take you to where you will be sleeping."

Irving took my hand and led me from his office. I noticed the pain in my leg was gone, and did my best to wiggle my ankle as I walked, realizing that it too must have been healed by Irving. He led me through the tower, giving me a tour as we went. I saw the Chantry, the study hall, the stock room, and the library before we reached the apprentice quarters.

"This is where you will be sleeping, Teresa," Irving said.

"Tessa," I said slowly, "Mama only called me Teresa when I was in trouble."

"Tessa, then," Irving said, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The room was fairly large, with rows and rows of bunk beds. Most of the people in the room where in their late teens, maybe young adulthood, and there were even a few elves. There was only a hand full of kids, all of them older than me.

One of them, a boy, who was sitting on his bed, hopped of and walked over to me. He held out his hand, and I shook it.

"I'm Jowan," the boy said, running his hand through his shaggy brown hair, "Welcome to your cell."


End file.
